


Take the Drop

by Anonymous



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Brief Self-Harm, Brief suicidal ideation, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Prompto DLC, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, omega drop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22163473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Prompto teeters on the precipice after being pushed from the Magna Fortia and down into the Niflheim wildlands. He doesn't realize just how much risk comes for a lone omega, seemingly rejected by his pack and facing an unkind world alone.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum, Minor OT4 - Relationship, Prompto Argentum & Aranea Highwind, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 6
Kudos: 194
Collections: Anonymous





	Take the Drop

**Author's Note:**

> This some self-indulgent junk. I saw the concept of "omega drop" and wanted to play with it, and what better experiment grounds for something that requires angst than Episode Prompto?
> 
> I took some liberties with the concept of omega drop, but hopefully it works for you. Please enjoy!
> 
> Please note, some dialogue was taken directly from the game. I found the transcript here: https://thelifestream.net/final-fantasy-xv-lore/final-fantasy-xv-chapter-by-chapter-lore-exposition-and-development/

**Take the Drop**

The last thing he saw clearly was Noctis, enraged, with his hands outstretched. His palms on his chest. _His alpha_ pushing him as hard as he could, and then the blue sky, shadowed with the black bulk of Imperial dropships, as he dropped out of the sky towards the ground like a bird with an arrow in its wing.

Everything since then has been done under a blur, like staggering through fog in mismatched boots. The days he spent trying to follow the tracks, stealing a coat from an abandoned cabin and walking on, then running through the Niff bases, facing down that _creep_ Besithia and Ardyn Izunia again, the emotional load of carrying the truth behind that barcode. Every step he took was like sinking under the weight of his injuries, of his fears and anxieties, of that last memory of Noctis’ rage. Even now, as he gulped down the can of beans heated over his paltry fire, he was fighting through that fog.

He blinked and saw the images of the other hims in those tubes, heard Verstael’s voice calling him a _failure_ , Ardyn mocking him that he had _nobody left_ , Noctis putting his sword to his neck, _“You can’t talk your way out of this!”_ and that terrifying expression on his face as he’d shoved him away, off, sending him tumbling down and away.

All of a sudden, Prompto didn’t want to eat, the food turning to ash in his mouth, and he shoved the beans aside, instead clenching down on his own aching heart that strained to eat its way out of his breast.

He wasn’t Noctis’ omega. He knew that, he’d always known it would come to that. He knew that he wouldn’t be allowed to bond with him, be his mate. It had been made clearer and clearer that Noctis had never really wanted that from him. Ever since Altissia, the last time he and Noctis had been together, Noctis had nuzzled his scent patches along his neck, kissed along the soft skin where he would plant a bond mark, Prompto was sure he’d felt Noctis falling away. He’d been the one to speed Noctis towards the altar to drop him off as close to Leviathan as he could take him, but he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of jealousy that he was taking _his alpha_ \- no, not _his_ \- to the beautiful beta he was meant to marry. When Lunafreya died, Noctis had broken down in grief as intense as if his mate had died, and Prompto couldn’t do or say anything to comfort his alpha - _not his, never his_ \- to comfort Noctis through it. He’d hung with Ignis as he’d stumbled through Fodina Caestino, because someone had to support him, and, selfishly, it felt good to have an alpha - _any alpha_ \- at his side. Noctis was just storming ahead, refusing to talk to anyone. He’d been trying to talk to Noctis on the train when Noctis had turned on him with fury in his eyes and turned on him with his sword.

Tears were welling at his eyes again, and he weakly looked down at his wrist, the barcode he’d tried to hide and forget for as long as he’d had people to hide it from. Had Noctis always somehow known what he was? No, that was irrational. But now that Prompto knew for sure, Noctis would have to know. If Noctis was pushing him away, literally and figuratively, because he wasn’t good enough, then this would only make it worse. 

He hitched back a sob, then scraped at the barcode. As if he could etch out the reality if he could just make that mark go away. As if Noctis might change his mind, pick him back up, give him his mark, if he could just be good enough, but he’d never been good enough, _never_ been good enough. He scratched and scratched, furious at the barcode for marking him as subhuman, as one of Verstael Besithia’s _failures_. As if he weren’t already a failure. He’d failed Lunafreya’s promise, he’d failed to keep what few friends he’d made, he’d failed to be a good omega to Noctis, to love him enough to be worthy of staying at his side. The barcode refused to budge, the skin just reddened, hot and angry under his fingernails, like a parody of the bond mark he would never get - 

Hot.

The fire.

Prompto looked at one of the sticks at the edge of the fire, red-hot like a cigar at the end, and grabbed it. His breath hitched, chest tight, but he wound up and jabbed the burning end against his brand and pressed in. He wailed as the flesh singed, until someone slapped his hand. 

Aranea. She’d followed him. She’d found him.

“Don’t tell me you thought that would work,” she muttered, and took a potion out of his pocket and crushed it over his wrist. He whimpered as the burned flesh healed and knit. A tremor set in his bones, making his teeth chatter as he shivered like he was about to freeze to death all over again. Aranea fixed him with a harsh look. “Prompto, ri-” She came up short. “Hell, kid, you look like you’re dying.”

He felt like it. 

“I ran into your pack in Tenebrae.” She spoke a little softer now. “You’ve got ‘em worried sick. I don’t know how you guys shake out, or who’s bonded to who, but they’re missing you. You wanna go see ‘em?”

Prompto bit his lip, then shook his head. Why would Noctis want to see him? Noctis had been the one who’d pushed him away, who didn’t want him, Noctis didn’t want him _he’d never wanted him-_

“Shit,” Aranea whispered, then pulled Prompto to her chest. “C'mere, don't you break down on me here…”

Without realizing it, Prompto had broken into heaving sobs, and Aranea hugged him so tight it was uncomfortable and awkwardly patted his back. “Shh, shh, crying isn’t gonna help. Shit,” she murmured, mostly to herself, “I’m not your alpha but I’m the best you got…”

Prompto couldn’t speak, panic rising in him as he realized that no matter how much he wanted to stop crying - _get it together, Prompto!_ \- he couldn’t calm himself down. He managed to choke out a little of the truth: “N-not… not pack… Don’t... h-have an alpha…”

“That’s bull.” Aranea kept rubbing his back. Prompto shook his head.

“N-Noct… N-noctis… pushed me…” He hitched back another sob. “Y-you saw, though. All those others… How could he want me when I was just made to make ‘em miserable?”

Aranea scoffed, but forced reassurance into her voice: “Your alpha was begging me to find you. You’ve been driving around with ‘em that long and you don’t know how they really feel?” Aranea patted Prompto’s cheek in a way that might have been an attempt at being gentle and soft, but it only abraded Prompto’s raw nerves. “Your princely pal there was hardly talking when I saw him. Me and him aren’t exactly friendly, but he put his pride aside to ask me to come looking for you.” She pinched Prompto’s cheek as he choked back another sob. “Would he do that for someone who makes him miserable?”

Prompto tried to curl into himself. “He… he doesn’t know yet… and he hates me already…”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Aranea insisted, and pulled her to his chest. “I told you. Your alpha is so upset-”

“N-not my alpha.” The words were starting to firm up, heavy like stones in his throat. “He’s… he’s not…” He'd never bonded Prompto, never offered to. They weren't pack, they didn't want him. Tears fell, too thick. Prompto wished he could drown on them, just lay down in a puddle and sleep and never wake…

“Prompto! Hey!” Aranea patted his face a few times. “Don’t go there on me!” She readjusted her grip to hold him tighter. “He loves you. Loves you, he loves you. He’d be here if he could - please tell me this is working, kid, I’d never forgive myself if I let you drop into a coma.”

“C-coma?” Prompto blearily lifted his eyes. “What’re you…” Tears flooded his vision when he tried to look at her, and she shushed him.

“You’re dropping. Omega drop.” She said it like it was obvious. “It’s a response to emotional strain, and it’s dangerous! Your inner omega’s telling you your alpha and pack’s rejected you. Your hormones are trying to shut the rest of you down to protect you, but sweetie, they’re coming.”

Prompto shook his head, trying to tell her, he’d never heard of that, would he really die if his pack had rejected him? Then he remembered Noctis throwing him aside, pushing him away, the long fall off of the train to the snowfield, Gladio shoving him down _(even his fellow omega hated him)_ , Ignis declining to listen to Prompto talking about his pictures _(not good enough for any alpha)_ , and his inner omega answered him as clear as his own inner monologue:

_Maybe dying would hurt less._

Prompto felt the shaking start again, keening weakly. “They… they won’t…”

“They are, I promise!” Aranea patted his face, then swore under her breath and yanked the scarf from his neck. She stopped cold, eyes wide and faintly glinting with anger. “When’s the last time he scented you?” 

Prompto couldn’t answer. He couldn’t remember. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Aranea sighed and loosened the collar of her jacket. “I’ll be your alpha for a little while.”

She pulled Prompto against her chest and put his chin on her shoulder. Prompto smelled a rush of _alpha_ , strong and musky. Aranea smelled nothing like Noctis, that familiar whiff of citrus and spice; she smelled more like the forests he’d been wandering through, but he felt somehow secure just from the sense of _alpha_ that rolled off of her from that scent and surrounded him. 

“I’m here,” she told him, softly and gently. “I’m right here, you’re safe, stay with me.” She rubbed his back in a way that told him she didn’t know exactly what she was doing, but it felt nice anyway. “Listen. Omega drop is really dangerous. Your friends, your pack, they need you back, so you have to hang on and stay here.” She stroked her palm down his spine, and Prompto felt her wipe away some of his tension with it. “You gotta hold on and trust that your man is gonna be right there waiting for you when you get to him.” She rubbed her cheek to his. “I’ll tell you what I told him: stop moping, start hoping. We can get you back to them. You’re still alive, and he wants you, he wants you so much…”

Aranea’s scent, her warm arms and chest, her unusually gentle words all served to soothe something in Prompto that had made him feel small and frightened. It didn’t change his anxieties about who or what he was, but he didn’t feel like laying down and dying anymore, so that was something, wasn’t it?

When he fell asleep against her chest, he still had nightmares of Noctis (not his Noctis, never his Noctis)...

* * *

Prompto was vaguely aware of the pain in his arms as he pulled at the restraints on the apparatus he’d been strapped to. Distantly, Ardyn’s voice taunted him: _“Is it scary being on your lonesome?”_

It was. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there; the hours since he’d faced down the Immortalis with Aranea were a blur. He’d been trying to get to Gralea to meet Noctis, with some vague hope that maybe, just maybe, his friends would be there waiting for him. Maybe Noctis would still accept him.

Now, that almost didn’t matter. What did it matter if Noctis wanted him if he was here? 

_Maybe if you’d tried harder to get to him_ , a treacherous voice whispered in his ear, and Prompto sucked back a sob. _It’s true, though._ He wasn’t certain which part of his head had said that, but there was nothing and nobody there to counter it. He just kept shivering and twisting in his bonds, wishing he could curl in on himself, wishing he could just fall asleep and never wake up. The bindings on his arms were so uncomfortable he couldn’t even think of sleeping, and instead just shut his eyes tight. The tears were streaming down his face again, but he didn’t even bother to try to choke them back. The cold was setting in again, and he tried to shiver, but he couldn’t move.

Somewhere, Ardyn was talking again, but Prompto squeezed his eyes shut tight, shutting him out. He strained hard and tried to think of the last time he’d seen Noctis before the catastrophe in Altissia, the warm bed they’d shared. Ignis and Gladio’s company as they'd roamed the city as a ~~pack~~ group, their familiar presences were never far. He’d felt complete then.

Now he only felt empty. 

Empty.

MT.

_“Turns out he’s got quite the skeleton in his closet.”_

Prompto twisted back from the words, unable to deny them, but with nobody to hear his denial, it would be pointless. _Cry yourself a river and drown in it,_ that awful voice in his head said, louder than ever, and Prompto whined and pulled at the restraints again, desperate to curl up if only so he could hold himself a little. 

_He'll come,_ he tried to tell himself, like Aranea had. _He'll find me. He'll come._ That thought, that promise was the only thing keeping him moving forward anymore.

Then, there were voices nearby, shadows, and then a warm hand on his arm. “We need to get this off of him, now!”

Noctis?

_Not your Noctis._

“Where’s the damn latches?!”

Noctis.

_Never your Noctis._

“Prompto?” Prompto opened an eye to see Noctis right in front of him. “Prompto, I’m here, we’re going to get you down. We’re about to push the button. You ready?”

Prompto didn’t have the composure to answer. The voice in his head and heart was screaming at him, begging for Noctis’ touch, his embrace, the warmth and love he remembered. There was a click behind him, and he was able to fall forward towards Noctis. 

For a second, he thought Noctis would let him hit the ground.

He fell into Noctis’ chest, and Noctis lowered him down, unable to support his weight on his own. Noctis rubbed his back as Prompto tried to catch his breath and compose himself. Gladio spoke from behind him: “Hey, you alright?”

“Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Ignis was right in front of him. 

All Prompto could focus on was Noctis at his side, right where Prompto always wanted him to be. 

“T-tell me.” He tried to tell a joke, Noctis always loved when he made jokes: “Were you worried about me?” 

“Of course I was! What kind of question is that?!” Noctis wasn’t laughing. Why wasn’t Noctis laughing? Prompto bit his lip and tried to look up.

“Of course. That’s why you came, like I believed you would,” he lied, then curled over himself again. “That’s why I told myself I couldn’t die.” He bit his lip. “Not until I could see you and hear you tell me I’m not a fake - that I’m the real me.”

He wished he could ask Noctis to tell him he loved him, that he cared, that he was _his_ and that it didn’t matter, but Noctis was whispering an apology and hurrying him to his feet, telling the others, “Come on, we should get him into better light, he’s bruised and shaking.” 

Before Prompto knew it, Noctis had hurried him into a bunk room and piled him onto a bed. The cot was creaky and not especially soft, but given the days he’d been away, it was the nicest, softest thing he'd touched in weeks. Prompto tried to curl up on the mattress, shivering and shaking in earnest as Noctis moved away from him. Prompto could see him talking to Ignis across the room, just as Gladio crouched in front of him.

“Prompto? Hey, what’s up?” He touched Prompto’s face, and his eyes went wide. “You’re freezing.”

“Th-thanks, man. You’re pretty cool too.” 

“No.” Gladio touched his shoulder, his arm, then his cheek again. “You’re actually freezing. Prompto, talk to me, how are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Prompto admitted, and curled in closer to himself. He could sleep. He wanted to sleep for as long as he could. Gladio shook his head.

“Shit. Shit. Move over.” He nudged Prompto aside and crawled up next to him. “Didn’t Noct notice? C’mere, kiddo, I’m right here.”

So much like Aranea.

Suddenly, Prompto was warm. Gladio pulled him to his chest and held him tight, nuzzling his neck. He reeked, but under the sweat stench was the familiar signature of Gladio, like leather and flowers. “Right here, Prompto. We missed you. We were all worried. Your pack was always coming for you, kiddo, and now we’re here.” Prompto’s insecurities quieted, as Gladio held him close. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I’m sorry I lashed out at you, and I never got a chance to apologize. But I’m here for you now, okay? I’m here, we’re here.” 

Prompto felt Gladio swing an arm up, trying to signal the others, but Noctis was facing Ignis and Ignis still couldn’t see. However, Gladio was warm and his hug felt nice. Prompto grabbed at every drop of affection in Gladio's kind touch, and Gladio delivered. He pulled a blanket up over Prompto’s back, waved again, then wrapped that arm around his back. “Right here,” he murmured again, and Prompto closed his eyes.

* * *

Noctis wanted nothing more than to run across the room and wrap himself around Prompto, but Ignis had whispered that they needed to talk. Instead, he just had to watch as Gladio got Prompto settled in one of the bunks, and Ignis cornered him across the room. “Noctis, have you heard of omega drop?”

Noctis stared blankly back at Ignis. Even though he was blind, he had somehow already learned how to face Noctis as if he could see right through him. “Your lack of an answer suggests that you don’t.”

“Explain it, then.” Noctis tensed as he saw Gladio touching Prompto’s face and stroking his hair. He didn’t want to be talking to Ignis, not when Prompto was finally in front of him again. _His_ omega. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched him before he’d been tricked into hurting him, too busy wallowing in his own pain, and the plain anguish in Prompto’s expression told Noctis just how much of Prompto’s hurt he needed to heal. Ignis, however, pursed his lips.

“Simply put, it’s an unfortunate weakness of their dynamic.” His brow furrowed. “When an omega is in a position of extended emotional strain, without encouragement and support from their pack, or especially their bond-mate or lover, their hormones shut them down.”

“What?!” Noctis felt his heart hit the floor. “Shut down, what do you mean, _shut down_ -”

“There can be sudden, extreme cases of omegas dropping into comas due to sudden stress or shock, but there’s a slower, insidious version, as well. The hormones begin to shut down assorted non-essential or essential functions. Some omegas lose higher thought functions and revert to pure instinct, but the serious danger usually begins with the hypothalamus.” Ignis pressed his fingertip to his own forehead. “Body temperature regulation. Appetite regulation, sleep regulation. An omega suffering from a drop will stop eating. They’ll either stop sleeping, or sleep more and more. They go cold.” Noctis saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Gladio had crawled into the bed with Prompto, that Prompto was shivering like a stricken piano wire. “Usually it brings with it depression, weakness, fatigue, and, worst of all, resignation. Piece by piece, their bodies shut down on them.” Noctis inhaled sharply, lungs filled to bursting, as he saw Gladio talking to Prompto urgently, and Prompto’s teary face buried in Gladio’s jacket. “It’s a defense mechanism,” Ignis went on. “Somewhere in their instincts, when things are too stressful and they feel vulnerable, unprotected, or weak, they simply shut down. They may or may not ever wake.” 

“How do we fix it?!” Noctis clenched his fists. Gladio was flagging him, he needed to be with Prompto, fixing it, not standing here with another alpha between him and Prompto! Ignis, cold but serene, shook his head.

“Calm down, for starters. Anger is only going to make him withdraw more." Noctis grimaced, and Ignis nodded, a grim set to his jaw. "Yes, I do suspect Prompto is dropping, or very near dropping, and you, as his alpha, can bring him back.” Ignis gripped his cane tight. “Believe it or not, having an omega lover isn’t just about having someone jump when you demand it or somewhere warm to put your knot.”

Noctis' anger leapt up his throat. “I never thought it was!”

“It’s your duty to make him feel safe and wanted,” Ignis spoke, right over and through Noctis’ protest. “He needs you. He needs you to scent him, to remind him that you’re there and that you will protect him. He needs his pack and his alpha to remind him that he is supported, cared for, and most of all, wanted.” Ignis patted his arm. “Now, go to him. I’ll be right there.” 

Noctis didn’t wait. He rushed right over to the bunk where Gladio was cuddling Prompto like a teddy bear. Gladio rolled one eye up towards him, and Noctis frantically motioned. “Is he - Can I-”

“He needs _pack_ , too,” Gladio muttered, gruff but not unkind. “You may not have noticed, but the four of us - it’s like that.”

“I know.” Noctis knew. Of course he knew. The longer he thought about it the worse he felt for mistreating them, taking them all for granted. He loved them, needed them, he never wanted to see them all hurt this much for him. “You have to understand, I-”

“He doesn’t smell like you. I don’t even know what he smells like, but it’s not you.” Gladio pulled Prompto closer. “You haven’t scented him for weeks, have you?”

Noctis wanted to shout, _he’s been gone, I haven’t had the chance!_ But that wasn’t true. He could have, back in Fodina Caestino, on the train, after he’d woken up in Altissia and seen the obvious tear tracks on his cheeks, any time before Prompto had been lost over the side of the train, _he could have just not thrown Prompto away!_ “I’d like to fix that. Please let me try.”

Gladio eyed him a moment longer, and Noctis held his breath. He wouldn’t fight with Gladio again. Not here, not now. Fortunately, Gladio relented. “You’ll need to let Iggy have a turn, too. I wish we could just summon the tent in here, I know I feel safest when the four of us are all crammed in there.” He scooted out, making room for Noctis to crawl in with Prompto. “I’m gonna see what I can do about getting all four of us piled up together.” He rose carefully, then motioned to Noctis. “Get in there with him, right now.”

Noctis didn’t have to be told twice. As Gladio stalked off to see if he could disassemble and push a few bunks together, Noctis sunk into the bed with Prompto and tumbled into Prompto’s blanket. Prompto had begun to shiver immediately when Gladio had gotten out, but Noctis wrapped himself around him tight. He pressed his nose to Prompto’s soft, bare neck, and immediately felt a sting - _another alpha?_ Jealousy flared at him, but Prompto’s neck was still unmarked. Noctis hated that Prompto didn’t have his teeth marking him, but at least whatever alpha had been around him hadn’t either. Aranea? He smelled like Aranea. Noctis would remedy that.

“Hey, babe,” Noctis whispered into his ear, “How are you feeling?”

“Mm.” Prompto just curled closer to him. His eyes, always the blue of a perfect sky, were clouded with tears and shadows. “Noct.”

That wasn’t an answer. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” He rubbed his neck to Prompto’s, nuzzling him, smearing his scent all over him. “Missed you, missed you. I’m so sorry I…” The emotion welled up in his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you…”

He’d failed to save Lunafreya. She’d been a dear friend, nearly as important to him as Prompto. He and Lunafreya had agreed that they would be married in the public eye, but they each had someone else they would rather have mated. Lunafreya would wear his ring, but never his teeth, and if the next scion in the line of Lucis Caelums happened to have freckles, who would be the wiser? Lunafreya had expressed that she would be happy to meet Prompto, happy to have him share her company. Noctis would have loved to have a dear, longtime friend and confidant like her in his pack. 

And he’d failed to save her. Then, too soon, he’d nearly failed to save Prompto. Worse, he’d been the one responsible. 

No wonder Prompto’s instincts were trying to shut him down to protect him. Noctis hadn’t wanted to keep breathing when he realized what he’d done to Prompto.

He kissed down his neck, sucking gently along his scent gland then pressing soft kisses up his chin to his mouth. “Stay with me, baby.” Prompto seemed to wake up a little and kissed back. “I’m so glad I found you. Thank you so much for hanging on ‘til I could find you. Did Aranea tell you we were coming?”

“She… she said you were…” Prompto swallowed nervously. “You were upset. You missed me…” He bowed his head against Noctis’ breast, soft yellow locks slicked with sweat brushing over his sternum, still the brightest thing Noctis had seen in days. Noctis tousled his hair. 

“Is that all?” He bent down to kiss his crown, right where all of the swirls in his hair parted. “She should have told you I needed you. I don’t feel complete without you. I want you to stay with me forever.” 

Prompto stilled as Noctis tangled his fingers into his hair. Noctis could see him processing. “You don’t…”

“I do. I’m so sorry I didn’t do enough to help you remember that before.” He kissed Prompto’s hair. “I’m never going to leave you alone again. We’re never going to leave you alone again. Me, and Iggy, and Gladio, we’re all right here.” He took hold of Prompto’s hand and kissed it, then pressed it to his own heart. “No matter what happens.” 

Prompto’s eyes went wide, and Noctis kissed Prompto’s forehead. He scented him again, rubbing their necks together. Noctis would bathe Prompto in his musk if he could, if only it wouldn’t blot out his own natural honeysuckle sweetness. He never minded scenting Gladio or Ignis on him - they were pack, too, had been like brothers to him since he was first forming his pack, and both had welcomed Prompto with open arms once they saw how happy Noctis made him - but Noctis could be satisfied for the rest of his life if he only ever had himself and Prompto.

He regretted more deeply than words could ever say that his grief and his own pain and anger at their situation had caused him to lose sight of that.

“When you’re feeling better? When we’re safe? I wanna bond you.”

Prompto squirmed and twisted to look Noctis in the eye, but Noctis wouldn’t let him far from his chest. “But... why me? Never… not before…”

Because they were too young. Noctis would have bonded him back in high school if he weren’t sure his father wouldn’t disinherit him for the scandal. Because he had to marry Lunafreya first. It was the treaty, then a promise, then a desire to have all of his favorite people together. Because Noctis was undeserving of Prompto, who’d never done anything wrong in his life and never deserved to be put at risk for being associated with someone like him. Prompto deserved better.

But Prompto didn’t want better. The way he curled against Noctis’ body even now, even as he tried to reject Noctis’ request to bond, told Noctis that Prompto wanted him, needed him, loved him enough to die for lack of him as if he’d drowned in the snow.

“I was an idiot to wait this long.” Noctis stroked his hair. “But I’m ready. I want you to wear my mark. Will you?”

Prompto cringed. “I… I wanna decide later.”

Noctis winced, but petted Prompto’s hair a few more times. “You have all the time in the world. I’ll always wait. I’m here, no matter what.” 

Prompto keened softly, a plaintive little whimper than ached Noctis' heart. “No matter what?”

“No matter what.” Noctis wrapped both arms around him, never wanting to let go.

Just then, Gladio cleared his throat behind him, and said, very softly, “We’re gonna push two more beds next to you guys.”

Noctis gave a little nod, then whispered to Prompto. “It’s about to get loud. Gladio and Specs missed you too.”

Prompto nodded, then flinched as Gladio pulled one of the other bunks he’d managed to take apart closer, the legs scraping across the ground until the mattresses were flush. 

“Iggy, go give our other omega his welcome-back from you.” Noctis opened an eye to see Gladio guiding Ignis to that bunk, then going to pull another to their other side. Ignis carefully lowered himself into the bed beside Prompto. To his surprise, a growl rose up in Noctis, but he stifled it at the sudden fear in Prompto’s eyes. Ignis pursed his lips, but pointedly patted Prompto’s shoulder.

“We all missed you, Prompto. We needed you.” He laid down behind Prompto and rested his hand over his forearm. “So cold, my darling. Let’s get you warmed up.”

Noctis grimaced, but Ignis ran hot and Prompto's skin was still clammy and chilled. He let his jealousy wash back, as Gladio brought another bed in and flopped down onto the bunk on Ignis’ other side.

“This is best, yeah? All four of us, together.” He curled up next to Ignis, kissing the shell of Ignis’ ear, before stretching an arm to rest onto Prompto’s hip. “Just the way it ought’a be.” 

“Even…” Prompto’s voice was heartbreakingly small. “Even me?”

“Especially you,” Noctis whispered, and nuzzled Prompto’s neck again. Even without his bond, he would never let Prompto forget that he was his. He would never let Prompto go back to that dark place. He needed Prompto with him, alive, healthy, happy, and warm. 

He hadn’t taken the leap after Prompto, and he would regret that forever, but he would take the drop and commit to giving him a happy future where they would never have to be apart again. Prompto deserved a good man, a happy life, and even if Noctis didn’t deserve him in return, Prompto needed him and thus would have him. 


End file.
